Job 31:16–21

Job tests himself formally and in fine detail, with a very full list of charges. He does this toward God as well as man — for failing to do good, as well as for self-indulgence and other sins. We can be sure of this. Not one of the friends who as good as put him on trial could have afforded to test himself as Job does here.

In verses 16-21 he speaks of sins of omission also. Suppose he had not helped the poor, or had ignored the plight of the widow. Suppose he had kept all he had for himself, so that the fatherless went hungry. Suppose he had seen someone die for lack of clothing, or a poor man with nothing to cover him. Suppose the heart of the poor had never blessed Job, never warmed by the fleece of his sheep — then he says, "let my arm fall from my shoulder."

Reaching out beyond his household to the needy poor, he let the fatherless and the widow share his food, and he warmed them with his clothing. In brief he was as a father to the orphan, and as a son to the widow. Surely we have here an illustration of religion that is "pure and undefiled" (James 1:27).

His compassion always went out to people who were suffering — the widow and the fatherless, the needy and the naked. This was no passing gesture. He cared for them steadily and tirelessly, as a father would, and he watched himself carefully, so that he never took the least advantage of them through his influence with others.

The law had its value, for God does nothing in vain. Yet look how high the moral standard already was — in the soul, and in the daily walk of godly men outside Israel, before the law came from Sinai. And it was not only in matters of right and wrong, which conscience could judge more or less exactly, depending on how much light a man had. We can also see what God's revelation did inside the soul, in its affections and its judgments.

Now, just read chapters 29-31, and you will say, if any man could have justified himself by good works, Job was the man. There is not a man in all your town that can say as much as Job said, and say it truly. As to his kindness to the poor, he was the very opposite of the lying charges brought against him. So he lets memory recount every good act of his life, but it all fails to give rest to his troubled spirit. I, I, I — I did this, I did not do that. But it is all of no use.

The friends were completely wrong. They had no excuse and no kindness. What Job says was true, but he does not yet know the whole truth about himself — as no one could, until He came who is the Truth, and proved it in grace to the very end at His cross. But Job was taken up with himself and pleased with himself. God would set him free from that, and bless him more than ever. No human being will boast in God's presence. Job had to learn this — to boast only in Him.

In verses 16-21 he speaks of sins of omission also. Suppose he had not helped the poor. Suppose he had ignored the plight of the widow, and had kept all he had for himself, so that the fatherless were left hungry. Then, he says, "let my arm fall from my shoulder, let my arm be torn from the socket" (v.22). In contrast to this, notice his words in parenthesis (v.18), "But from my youth I reared him (the fatherless) as a father, and from my mother's womb I guided the widow."

Reaching out to the poor in need, he shared his food with the fatherless and the widow, and he warmed them with his clothing. In short, he was as a father to the orphan, and as a son to the widow. Surely we have here an illustration of religion that is "pure and undefiled" (James 1:27).

It was not only a strong sense of kinship inside his own household. His compassion always went out to suffering people — the widow and the fatherless, the needy and the naked. He did not help them now and then. He cared for them as a father does, with care that was constant and never tired. And he kept watch over himself, so that he never used his influence with others to take the least advantage.

The book of Job records God's lovingkindness in His dealings with this patient man from his earliest days (Job 31:18, amended). "He brought me up as a father, and guided me from my mother's womb." Yet Job is brought to confess, despite all that God had been to him, "I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes." In the end his sufferings set him free from himself, and even greater blessing marks the close of his story.

He had a completely good conscience, but that is not enough. There is the great principle of self-judgment. There is also the grand principle of full submission to God, and of vindicating Him. He is right and wise in all of it — not only in what He does, but in what He allows.

If any man could have justified himself by good works, Job was the man... As to his kindness to the poor, he was the very opposite of the lying charges brought against him. So he lets his memory count up every good act of his life, but it all fails to give rest to his troubled spirit. I, I, I, I did this, I did not do that. But it is all of no use.

In verses 16-21 he speaks of sins of omission also. Suppose he had not helped the poor, or had ignored the plight of the widow. Suppose he had kept all he had for himself, so that the fatherless went hungry. Suppose he had seen anyone die for lack of clothing, or any poor man without covering. Suppose the heart of the poor had not blessed Job, because it was not warmed by the fleece of his sheep. Then, he says, "let my shoulder blade fall from my shoulder, and let my arm be broken from its socket" (v.22).

The loins are the body's chief seat of strength, when they are properly belted for work.

His care was not only a strong sense of family inside his own household. His compassion always went out to suffering people — the widow and the fatherless, the needy and the naked. He did not help now and then, but with the constant, tireless care of a father. And he watched himself, so that he never took the smallest advantage by using his influence with others.

He starts with his household. Its good order grew out of the purity of its master. He claims he was fair in every dealing with his servants, since he saw that they shared his nature and stood before a God "who shows no partiality." Then he moves outward to the needy poor. The fatherless and the widow had shared his food, and he had warmed them with his clothing. In short, he was a father to the orphan and a son to the widow. Here we surely have an example of religion that is "pure and undefiled" (James 1:27).

To close, and to be practical: what is my life, and what is your life? Am I a fruitful vine? Are you? Am I, are you, touching the world's need, for God's glory and to show His character?... Clearly Job was not an empty vine.

We cannot question the truth or the sincerity of all that he says. But we may well ask: is his conclusion a happy one even for himself?... Divine truth, as well as divine love, will not let him wrap himself in these clothes of self-righteousness. Most of them are borrowed garments that belong to God, and Job gives Him not the least bit of glory for them. The rest are only filthy rags, fit for the dust and ashes where Job will soon put himself.

Now Job needed this, and God saw that he needed it. He was gracious and godly, but he did not know himself. He had never seen God in a way that brought him to a real knowledge of himself in His presence. So God deals with him in a way that brings his sinfulness right out into the open. Then He sets him, with that sinfulness now clear to his conscience, in His own presence... Job had acted well, for grace had acted in him; but he did not know himself before God.

While dwelling on his kindness, Job shows how he had not taken advantage of any legal technicality that would have cleared him in any harsh dealing with the needy. When he saw his "help in the gate" — the judges inclined to decide in his favour, not because they were bribed, but because they were giving him his just dues — he had not pressed his case against the orphans. If he had lifted his hand against them, he says, "let my arm drop from my shoulder blade."

Eliphaz is only imagining what he thinks Job must have done to explain his troubles. "… You have sent widows away empty, and the arms of the fatherless have been broken. Therefore snares are all around you." You see, all the reasoning is quite mistaken.

In verses 16-21 he speaks of sins of omission also. Suppose he had not helped the poor, or had ignored the plight of the widow, but had kept all he had for himself, so that the fatherless went hungry. Suppose he had seen anyone die for lack of clothing. Suppose Job had not championed the cause of the fatherless in the gate, the place of judgment. Then, he says, let his own arm fall from his shoulder, torn from the socket.

This closing burst of indignant self-defence on Job's part is deeply interesting and instructive… We can see how high the moral standard was for the soul and for the walk of godly men outside Israel, before the law came from Sinai… God had spoken words. He had also worked in solemn ways with people, one by one and all together, in grace and in judgment. All this was long before He inspired men to write His mind by divine power. And faith received His word, and thought over His dealings, to rich profit, before Scripture existed.

He had a perfectly good conscience, but that is not enough. There is the great principle of self-judgment. There is also the grand principle of entire submission to God, and of vindicating Him — that He is right and wise in all, not only in what He does, but in what He allows.

Now, just read chapters 29-31. You will say that if any man could have justified himself by good works, Job was the man… So he lets memory recount every good act of his life. But it all fails to give rest to his troubled spirit. I, I, I, I did this, I did not do that. But it is all of no use.